Some People Talk To Headstones Poem by Lawerence Mize, Sr.

Some people talk to headstones.
I used to do that to.
I'd stop and visit my brother Bob,
It seemed the right thing to do.

He didn't really have a headstone.
In those cold early winter days.
Just a marker on his grave.
The ground as hard as clay.

I went as often as I could.
To speak of things we knew.
I felt compelled to leave a poem,
A little note or two.

People mourn in many ways.
Some just scream and shout.
I hold the hurt deep in my heart.
And, then I have to let it out.

That's one reason why I ride a bike.
It gives me time to reflect.
Some people take so much from life.
Others, glad for what they get.

A ride can be a soothing thing,
On a warm, sunny, autumn day.
It frees the mind.
It heals the heart.
It takes the hurt away.